Before Your Eyes
by whispered touches
Summary: They say that when you're about to die, you see your entire life flash before your very eyes. Every precious second of every precious day, and it only takes a second, but it feels like a lifetime, becuase that's what it is. They lied.


**Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything.**

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**_Before Your Eyes_**

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They say that when you're about to die, you see your entire life flash before your very eyes. Every precious moment of every precious day, and it only takes a second, but it feels like a lifetime, because that's what it is. You suddenly know everything that's ever happened to you, but you can't share it with anyone, because you're about to leave this world forever.

They lied.

I know when I see that thin stick of wood in that hand with so much terrible power pointed at me that I'll never get to see another sunrise, or have another cup of morning tea with my husband, because he's already left me. I won't get to walk into the sitting room and see him making little puffs of multicolored smoke come billowing out of the tip of his wand for my son -- _our _son -- so he can giggle and clap his tiny hands together. The little life we created has enjoyed his last moments with his family, and he won't even remember it. He'll never turn those wide, innocent, adorable bright green eyes that he got from me on his parents ever again. We're leaving him all alone in the world.

But I also know, somehow, that no matter how much the terror that controls our world wants to kill him on this cold Halloween night, he will go forward to do great things -- things that change the world, things for other people, not for his personal gain. He will be selfless, more selfless than he needs to be by far, and it will be his downfall one day, his fatal flaw, but if he _is _that giving and caring and loving and all other adjectives that describe him that will be the way he wants to go.

The only problem is that I don't quite know how long his amazing luck will last.

I can still remember how I felt the first time I held him in my arms, how when his father stretched out a quivering finger his minuscule pudgy hand snatched it and clung to it like a lifeline, and his father's eyes had the whole new emotion of pride in them. How when his little eyelids snapped open and we both saw a flash of green under his jet-black fuzz, and he stared at us and the rest of his new world with wonder and awe.

I can still remember how great we knew his godfather would be when we named him godfather, how he had roared with his bark-like laughter at how he could imagine his best friend looking just like the little boy but with minor mistakes. How the other best friend had given us an understanding and slightly bitter smile, but his too-early-lined and tired face was genuinely happy for us.

I can still remember vividly all those arguements the two of us had at school for some stupid, random thing that seems so much less important than what we're fightning for now. How I had screamed his last name that would one day become _my _last name, and he'd just stare at me half clueless and half mischevious, and every time I'd have to restrain myself from leaping into his muscley arms built up from Quidditch practice and snog him sense-and-breathless.

I can still remember how worried I was that last year when he was shipped off to St. Mungo's for a cracked skull, a broken leg and two broken ribs, and some internal damage. How that was the most bittersweet victory for Gryffindor over Slytherin Hogwarts had ever seen, the star player in a near-coma. How when he'd come striding into the Great Hall with his lopsided grin back in place and after his friends had crowded around him, I'd kissed him right on the lips and felt fireworks explode in my head.

I can still remember our wedding day like it was yesterday and it feels like it was, and how we'd both been shaking in our shoes -- me in unusually comfortable heels, he in whatever crappy fancy dress shoes he'd dug up -- until the doors opened and the march started and we'd forgotten everything else but each other, and how we knew what was going on without even paying attention until we were announced husband and wife.

I can still remember how nervous I was when I was telling him I was pregnant, thinking pessimistically without bright sides because it was completely unexpected and we'd gotten carried away in the wrong place at the wrong time. How his face had lit up the happiest I'd ever seen it yet -- _yet _-- and he'd spun me around with my feet off the ground and we were lightheaded and giddy and young and in love.

I can still remember when our old headmaster had knocked on our door, uncharictaristically grave, his eyes still twinkling, but this time with dark siriusness -- er, _serious_ness. How we'd both gasped at his recited prophecy and dashed our heads down to look at our little boy with so much resting on his weak little shoulders. How I'd felt a wave of sympathy toward our friends who would nearly have the same fate. How he'd suggested the Fidelius Charm and we'd agreed immediately, knowing the one person who would never disperse our wherabouts.

I can still remember coming home at the end of the final year in my horrible sister's car to see the Dark Mark hanging over our house, how they had left our parents' bodies there, grotesque, rotting, and heart-stabbing for us to see in plain sight. How I'd dissolved to my knees as soon as I burst inside to the sight of upturned tables and couches and chairs and shattered silverware and splintered wood. How he'd held me and stroked my hair for weeks as I sobbed into his shoulder every night, because I knew we were going to get married and my dad wouldn't be there to walk be down the aisle.

I can still remember how my heart and stomach had leapt when he proposed completely out of the blue one random spring night -- after a party, no less. How I thought he'd been drunk for just a moment, but his eyes were as clear and as full of love as ever as he dropped to one knee like he'd planned the whole thing and it was as normal as breathing.

I can still remember the party we'd had the next night to celebrate.

I can still remember how he and his friends had looked pensive and conspiratorial and nervous for an entire week before telling me their secret -- or their _second _secret, I guess -- and how I'd been mad for two seconds before they explained the reason. How I'd half-smirked, half-smiled at them and pulled them into a group hug, knocking their heads together and making them protest and I'd resisted cheekily.

I can still remember how exhilerated I'd felt when he gave me a ride as the stag he really was for the first time in some forest somewhere, clinging to his neck, the fur surprisingly soft under my fingers. How his eyes had remained stunningly hazel, his antlers stuningly hard and solid, and how he'd gotten them tangled in my hair and he changed back where we fell down laughing and gasping for breath.

I can still remember the first time I cast a Patronus properly and saw the silver doe burst from the tip of my wand to join his gleaming silver stag, and how'd the two animals had actually cantered off into nothingness. How I could just imagine a tiny little fawn stumbling after them, almost helpless.

I can still remember how I'd gotten up that morning in time to see the sunrise and have a cup of morning tea with my husband, perhaps sneaking in some more non-verbal activites before our little bundle of joy that was in so much danger had awoken with a cry.

I can still remember walking into the sitting room to see my son -- _our _son -- that was in so much danger spending his last moments with his family by trying to grab multicolored smoke that was puffing out of his father's wand in his tiny little fist.

It feels like it was forever ago, but in the cruel reality it was only a few minutes where my heart rate increased by fifty miles an hour, trying to complete enough beats to last the rest of the life I should've had before it had to stop. A life where I saw my son off to Hogwarts, not having to ask some stranger -- no matter how kind -- to get onto the platform. A life where I was there at his wedding where he and his bride look just like us, wiping my eyes with the little dignity I would have left. A life where we're there to hear him name his eldest son and only daughter after us and his late godfather, and his middle child after the man who guided him through it all and "the bravest man he ever knew."

They say that when you're about to die, you see your entire life flash before your very eyes. Every precious moment of every precious day, and it only takes a second, but it feels like a lifetime, because that's what it is. You suddenly know everything that's ever happened to you, but you can't share it with anyone, because you're about to leave this world forever.

They lied.

When you're about to die, you see everything that was ever important in your life that helped shape you into the person you were meant to be flash before your very eyes. Every person you ever cared about the most and every special memory that came with them, no matter how many there are, and only takes a second, but it feels like a lifetime, because that's what it is. But it's a _good _lifetime, because your last moments are clouded with the thoughts of the people who reside in your heart forever, even when it stops _thump-thump_-ing to the beat of the tune of your experiences.

But maybe that's just me.

I see the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything is gone.

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**So, what do you think? I know there are some really long sentences; that's the point. This is one of the few times that something turned out better in front of me than in my head. **

**I know there were a lot of made-up parts; it's just some things that I've been thinking about. (Insert shrug here) I really hopr you liked it and reviews would be helpful! Thnx for reading!**

**XAPY-TXINY-IIOZEINTON-NOAT  
Long name, long story. =D**


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